


Easy Like Sunday Morning

by MissGillette



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gift Fic, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Steve Harrington, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22875364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGillette/pseuds/MissGillette
Summary: Only on Sundays does Steve wake up to a surprise from Billy.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 3
Kudos: 190





	Easy Like Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little gift for my good buddy Gabe. Please see him and his striking, unique Harringrove style on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Artyhyylian). Please reply, retweet, like his art, spread it around (no reposting without his permission of course). He's really got something special going on. This fic was tailor written for him, taking his preferences into consideration. If you don't like it, back button is up there, honey, this ain't for you.

What actually wakes him, Steve isn't sure. It could be the room beginning to warm from the sun leaking in. It could be birds chirping outside. It could be cool air settling sharp over the wet kisses to his nipples. It very much could be the heavy warmth between his thighs and wicked lips making their way south. Oh, it's definitely that, but when Steve's doe eyes flinch open, it is to pitch-black darkness. Except yellow, morning sunlight bleed in around the edges... A blindfold?

Hardened iron under honey skin denies Steve's thighs from clamping shut when he startles. Billy's hands are there, though, to catch his shoulders and let that radiant heat soak into him. The chill in the balls of his shoulders melts under that touch, and Steve sinks back into his pillow with a sigh.

Lips shushing him just above black-brown hair climbing towards his navel, Billy purrs, "I gotcha, pretty boy. I'm right here."

Steve bows his back to fill the hollows in Billy's palms. They go sliding down, down porcelain with black glaze spattered haphazardly. Steve knows those paths well, arches against Billy's powerful hands when those thick, wicked fingers drum beats where lips had just sucked and pinched. Steve's shoulders draw up to his ears with every flick, and he wiggles greedily against Billy's weight pinning him down. He understands the blindfold now, pants with the rush and thrill of not being able to see what Billy will do next. What toys or what part of him he might use on Steve. Anything goes, and Steve doesn't bother with hopes or wishes. Whatever Billy gives him on this Sunday morning, he'll take as the treat it is.

So it's no surprise at all, only gets his heart thundering in his lips and fingertips, when Billy slides down, down, down and warm breath puffs over black-brown curls. Steve is sure, the memory vanishing like sunlight on a fog, that his dream had been of Billy. Whatever he was dreaming right before gently drifting awake, Billy and that devilish way about him were there. So Billy's deep groan when he parts Steve's thighs and spies a bit of shine Steve knows is burning there is no surprise either. He already throbs excited and warm higher up, clit pink and flush with blood underneath. Billy's thumb diving down and testing that wetness is a surprise, and Steve gives the appropriate, rattled gasp.

"Thinkin about me, huh?" Thumb pressed right to Steve's entrance, Billy makes a mess rubbing slickness back and forth, over pink skin and tight hair. Billy's really gonna give it to him. "I was thinkin about you, too, pretty boy."

Billy takes his thumb away to rest that hand with its brother on Steve's hip. Steve has to swallow twice to get out, "Y-yea?"

Steve isn't even upset at his lame response. Can't be when Billy rubs his jaw and cheek against that same hair. They'd showered last night, but sleeping so warm and comfortable, Steve knows Billy can't get enough of how his body smells. Grumbles and growls a little while licking thick hair. Only Billy would be so enthusiastic about this, loves Steve's everything so unashamedly. Bottom lip in his teeth, Steve's hands try not to shake when they search blindly for Billy's fanned over his hips. Billy moans with his mouth pressed to the soft crease where Steve's thigh meets his pelvis. Billy's arms shift and end up curling over the tops of Steve's thighs and drag their hands to the bed. Like this, with Billy's warm body keeping Steve's thighs open and his wicked mouth at its altar, Billy laces their fingers together. To give Steve something to hold on to.

Billy's next breath is stuttered when he murmurs, "Yea baby, lemme show rather than tell."

A subtle rock of Steve's hips up is all the permission Billy needs. Only the weight of Billy's arms keeps Steve from bucking entirely when he draws boyish lips from wet hole to pink clit, flushing dark already. Steve smacks his head into the pillow under him, not quite thrashing, when Billy dives right in after that quick caress, licking him open. Ah, so not the long game. Billy could lie here and edge him for hours if he wants. Has in the past. That's not Billy's angle with his chin already shiny and his tongue chasing circles like a dog with its tail. Steve's hips pop from shock alone. So bold and direct on his morning hardon. Billy usually isn't so quick to seals lips over buzzing flesh and roll his poor clit between them. 

The blindfold is what prevents anyone from seeing Steve's lids flutter and eyes roll back under them. Billy hits him hard, angling his mouth down to give his hole that same, chasing treatment. Only Steve is softer here, forces himself to relax as deeply as he can so Billy will dart his tongue inside. Steve holds out against his tremble, against his body tightening from pleasure for a few flicks of Billy's tongue. Not even that deep, but so good just an inch or so inside him. Nasty, fast in out, in out. When Steve does tense and whine with his voice rolling over gravel, Billy fights to slip back inside him. When he doesn't win, he just cheats and glides vicious lips right back up to wrap about his clit again. He's gentler this time, lips just holding him while that awful tongue laps at him at random. Sometimes rapid fast like vibrations from a toy and sometimes long, languid like a lazy afternoon. 

Teeth scoring past his poor lip, Steve groans, "Jesus, Billy, fuck."

"Mmm hmm?" All along where he's sore and burning for more, for Billy to sink back inside him.

Thwapping his head into the pillow two more times, Steve knows what Billy means without even saying anything. He wants Steve to tell him what he wants. No matter how long they're together, Steve can never do it without burning his face, without melting his ears from the embarrassment. No shame, god no, just enough heat to turn Steve pink from his face and down to his throat. But Billy likes to hear him talk back, so he muddles through the metallic tang of embarrassment and plays back.

"Need you," he pants with his chest bowing up again. Billy's tongue returns to lapping at his hole and wiggling inside. "Need you just like that, need your t-tongue, fingers, anything babe just don't stop, oh fuck don't stop."

When Billy hums again with lips slippery and flush between his legs, Steve moans all the louder. The needy boom of it bounces off the headboard behind him and fills his ears with his own call. Billy gives him one, too, but this one excites his skin more than it tickles his ears. Experiencing Billy through his skin without being able to see him is so strange, but each sensation digs deeper, spikes through his flesh to a coil winding in his navel. Tighter and tighter with every hum or brush of lips, Billy's viper tongue most of all. He's vicious in spoken language and also the intimate language of lovers where he shoves and bullies Steve's velvet heat into taking his tongue deeper. Billy's fucking nose smashes into his thigh all so he can do this for Steve, give Steve what he wants.

Steve is the one to shake their hands free with a desperate, broken whine. He pays no mind to Billy's ring on his middle finger, doesn't try to take it off as he takes Billy by the palm and shoves those thick fingers between them.

"This," Steve pants. "This, I want this, fuck me babe, I-oh god, I wanna come so bad for you, Billy."

His begging must be enough. Must be on the Billy-side of filthy and right to satisfy him. Billy grunts, "Fuck yea," and does as Steve asks. A wet, obscene groan of fingers in his mouth, Billy returns those awful lips back to Steve's clit and rubs two fingers against his pink hole. Steve begs the near-darkness in front of his eyes to just take him, just plunge so deep into him that he feels it in his throat. Steve grips hard to Billy's free hand and the sheets under him when, much like with his tongue, Billy only dips a few inches inside him. One finger, just petting around and around, withdrawing, and then repeating the process all over again. Playing with him. It's enough to make a boy cry.

"More!"

Billy grins wicked with his tongue lapping long and slow again. Oh, Billy will give him more. Steve knows what he's in for when he's bossy like this. Billy isn't interested in playing the long game, so he won't withhold from Steve as punishment for his bratty behavior. No, he glides back in with two fingers, so fucking thick all on their own, and forces Steve open when he spreads them wide. A moan rattles out of Steve's mouth hanging open. No matter how he squirms or rebels against Billy inside him, Billy doesn't relent. Only when Steve stops his silly revolt and melts back into the bed, pliant, does Billy continue. Fingers crook up inside him—Billy must have flipped his wrist up—and thrust teasing fast, too fast, over where he needs them. The hollow ache inside him is terrible, and Billy teasing him is almost cruel.

He won't whimper for more, though. Billy's tongue drags moisture up from where he's sunk knuckle deep and beats an even tattoo to keep him on edge. Timed with his fingers pressed deep and tip of his tongue flicking. No matter how Steve wiggles or tightens to cling to him, Billy doesn't speed up. Grinning again and bullying a third finger into him makes up for it. The mattress moves under them, now, as Steve fucks himself on Billy's finger. The headboard gives a threatening groan of wood as it sways. As the coil inside Steve winds to the breaking point. What seems like an eternity ago, he'd been blissfully asleep with warm thoughts of his boyfriend in his head. Now that same warm boyfriend pours heat into him with three fingers spreading him wide and swiping hard past his sweet spot. Steve wants it harder, faster, slicker, but he can't find the air to beg. Everything is tingly and tight, too good to form words.

The flat of Billy's knuckles smacking hard into Steve's pelvis, Billy ratcheting up the pace without warning, pops moans out of him. Billy likes it when he's loud, and Steve finds he doesn't mind. It's all for Billy, for how Billy makes him feel good, only gives him pleasure just the way he needs it. Loves his body and loves him. A smile cracks over Steve's bitten lips even as his jaw hangs open to bloom those noises for Billy. They can't hope to cover up the wet sounds of them rutting together. Those moans turn gasping and frantic as Steve's body bows up, rocks to Billy's fingers darting loud and fast in and out of him. Steve can't strain hard enough to meet those thrusts and grind himself on Billy's tongue and upper lip. Teetering between the two, Steve concentrates with a tremble in his jaw as warmth pools heavy and molten inside him, dripping out with every hard thrust into his sweet spot. 

Maybe he babbles Billy's name. Maybe he begs and pleads for Billy to let him come, to make him come. Something. Steve is at the razor's edge of tipping over to his orgasm, sort of teasing the line, and then he's free falling into it. His breathy moans catch in his throat and choke him as his everything pulses and tightens in waves. When Steve sucks down a ragged breath, Billy pops sweet cries out of him timed perfectly to those fingers burying deep inside him. Finally, the coil breaks under so much tension and sending bolts zapping through his skin. Billy doesn't stop even when Steve's body slows down. Doesn't stop when Steve's hips buck or his toes curl. He's mindful of his tongue and returns to long, slow laps. Timed perfectly to every wave of velvet pulsing around him. Steve almost wishes he could see Billy, if Billy is watching where they're connected or if Billy is all eyes on his needy O face. He could lift the blindfold up, a weak, inside voice reminds him casually. But he wants Billy to do it, to welcome him back into the world. He wants Billy's eager face to be the first thing he sees.

Billy doesn't disappoint with his fingers slipping out and a lapping kiss from hole to buzzing clit. The moment his weight lifts, Steve presses his thighs together to chase the echoes of his orgasm. The phantom weight of Billy's fingers inside him pairs nicely with each twitch in his clit from coming so hard. Billy does that to him, doesn't need toys or anything else to get him to almost pass out again. Steve doesn't even pout when Billy shakes his other hand free—probably with crescent-moon nail marks in the back oops—only to scoop him up. Billy is all warmth and bossy kisses to his mouth the instant they face each other. Steve's mouth screws up against Billy's at the taste, but he accepts the wicked tongue that fills the gap he leaves between his lips. Welcoming Billy in and moaning around him.

When they part, it's to Billy groaning, "Fuck, you don't know how hot you are when I get you off. I almost came when you groaned my name like that."

"I did?" Steve croaks back, almost loopy and drunk off that intense orgasm. He doesn't remember groaning Billy's name, but he'll run with it. "Didn't know I was that good, fuck."

"Yea, pretty boy, you're so fuckin good to me." Another kiss, a cheeky swipe of tongue just inside his lips. "Jesus, Steve, you don't know what you do to me."

Grinning, Steve drawls, "I love you too, man."

The next kiss is like a fight, but Steve expects it. Billy is better with his body than with words, and he knows Billy loves him like no other. He laps the words into Steve's mouth and moans with him when he swallows them. Steve knows them deeper than words can say.

Billy hums when they break this kiss, and he asks lowly, "Ready for me to take the blindfold off?"

"Yea, yea," Steve says with a grin. "I wanna see you."

The sight is just as beautiful as Steve knew it would be. Lazy smirk on this Sunday morning, the cat who's caught the canary, but so deeply fond just under that. Steve sees himself in Billy's blues when he loops a trembling hand around the back of Billy's neck and draws him down. He says his thanks in Billy's language and moans so sweetly when he's the one lapping at the bow of Billy's mouth. Already he's squirming for more, wants to take care of Billy. And maybe a bit, just a sliver of Steve's wet dream comes back. He has all sorts of plans for the rest of their lazy Sunday and knows Billy is game for each and every one.

Eyes coy and teeth eager in his lip, Steve asks softly, "Again?" 


End file.
